Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 02 - Bogey's Ace in the Hole

by Marja McGraw

  “No,” Victor interrupted, “I’ll talk to my friend. He’ll know what to do. I appreciate your warning, but I don’t think there’s anything else you can help me with at this point.” He stood up, obviously ending our encounter. It was time for us to leave.

  “I hope you’ll take this seriously. Let us know if we can help in any way.” Chris handed Victor one of our business cards after writing our home telephone number on the back. “Call us anytime.”

  “Thank you,” Victor said, sounding stiff and formal while he walked us to the front door. “I really think you’ve scared me enough for one day.”

  We didn’t know how to reply. He closed the door and we stood on the porch and talked.

  “He sure did an abrupt turnaround,” I said. “One minute he was concerned, and the next it felt like we’d stepped on his toes.”

  “He’s scared,” Chris said. “He started out having a nice day, and then we showed up on his doorstep with bad news. How would you expect him to act?”

  “All I can say is that if it were me – ”

  “But it isn’t,” Chris pointed out.

  “I’d be on the phone to the coppers right now. I wouldn’t waste my time driving over to a local bar.”

  Chris glanced toward the car and groaned. “What are they up to now?”

  I followed his gaze and saw Florence, Victor’s neighbor, standing on the sidewalk talking to the Church Ladies. She was smiling, so I assumed the ladies hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “They’re just talking,” I said. “That’s Victor’s neighbor, Florence. She invited me for tea and cookies today, and I’d forgotten about it in all the flurry of the morning’s events.”

  “Tea and cookies? I don’t have to go, do I?”

  “I’m not even sure I’m still invited since there are four of us now. Let me go see what’s going on.”

  Chris hung back a little while I forged ahead and joined the ladies.

  “Florence, I’m so sorry. I forgot we’d have the ladies with us when I accepted your invitation,” I said.

  “Oh, there’s plenty for everyone,” she said brightly. “The more, the merrier, as they say. Would your husband like to come, too?”

  The Church Ladies had quieted down and were watching me expectantly.

  “What do you ladies think? Are you in the mood for tea and cookies?” I asked. Silly me.

  “Oh, we’d love to have tea with Florence,” Jasmine said.

  “What a treat,” May added.

  “And we do enjoy cookies,” Lila finished.

  “Let me talk to Chris and I’ll be right back.” I could see by his face that he’d been listening.

  “How long do you think this will take?” he asked, before I could open my mouth.

  “Maybe an hour. Would you mind?”

  “I’ll make you a deal. You go have tea and crumpets with the ladies, and I’ll go visit Del’s and see if I can find out anything. I’ll be back in an hour.”

  “Cookies,” I corrected him.

  “Whatever.”

  I couldn’t blame him. In fact, I’d have liked to go to Del’s with him. Maybe the bartender would be more willing to talk to Chris without me interfering, and the ladies seemed so happy about our little tea party. I gave Chris a quick kiss and my blessings, figuratively, and headed back to the women.

  I glanced back at Victor’s house while I walked to Florence’s home, and the curtain fell into place. Victor had been watching us. I believed that Chris and I had shaken him up more than we’d intended. Of course, with what we’d told him, I couldn’t expect any other reaction.

  Sometimes Chris can be too blunt. But, then, how do you gently tell a man that someone wants to kill him?

  Chapter Thirteen

  I sat in the dining room while the Church Ladies helped Florence get out extra cups and saucers. Two sets, along with a sugar bowl and creamer, were already sitting on the dining table which was covered with a white lace tablecloth. I could see that Florence had been looking forward to my visit. The women bustled and chatted and enjoyed themselves, making the most of this unexpected social occasion.

  As I listened I heard Florence tell the ladies that she used to go to church, but it had become too difficult to attend because she didn’t drive anymore. Jasmine asked about her age, and Florence said, with pride, that she’d be eighty-eight on her next birthday.

  “So if you don’t drive, what do you do about groceries and doctors’ appointments and things like that?” Lila asked.

  “Victor takes me,” Florence replied. “He’s been so good to me since he moved into that house. If he doesn’t see me out in the yard, he checks to make sure I’m okay. He’s just like the son I never had.”

  “Don’t you have any family to help you out?” May asked.

  “Not really. Well, I do have some nieces and nephews, but they don’t come around. They call once in a while, but we’re not very close. They have busy lives.” The look on her face suggested that she wasn’t happy with her family. I wouldn’t be either if they never came to visit me.

  The ladies brought two teapots, the extra cups and saucers, dessert plates, and a platter covered with cookies to the table. We indulged ourselves with homemade oatmeal and chocolate chip cookies.

  “These are delicious,” Jasmine said. “Did you make them yourself?”

  “Yes. Believe it or not, I still enjoy baking. It’s one of the little ways I can pay Victor for his kindness. He does love my pastries.”

  “Does Victor ever have company?” I asked. Maybe I should have worked into that question more slowly.

  “He has a couple of gentlemen friends who stop by from time to time,” Florence replied.

  “Have you ever seen him argue with anyone?”

  Florence looked surprised. “Why, no. What’s this all about?”

  “Oh, nothing much. We’d just heard that someone was angry with him, and after talking to him it’s hard to imagine anyone taking issue with him.”

  Jasmine kicked me under the table and I couldn’t tell if she’d been crossing her legs or if she was trying to get my attention. I turned to her, but she was watching Florence.

  “So what do you do for entertainment?” May asked, changing the subject.

  “I have my soaps, and I enjoy the game shows, too. And on Monday nights I have a mystery show I watch. It’s about a gentleman who writes mysteries and becomes involved – ”

  The doorbell interrupted her description of Monday night television.

  Florence excused herself and left to answer the door.

  “Jasmine, why’d you kick me?” I asked.

  “Even I know you should have been a little more discreet with your questions, bless your heart. I know you meant well, but do you really think we should drag Florence into this?”

  “Who’s in a better spot to see who comes and goes?” I asked. “Victor doesn’t seem to be taking this seriously enough, so I thought I’d see if Florence knew anything. Jasmine, that man’s life is at stake here. Questions have to be asked.”

  “She’s right, Jaz.” May was sticking up for me and I was surprised. “You and I both know that little old ladies keep an eye on the neighborhood. We’re good at that. Florence could have seen all kinds of things going on around here.”

  “May’s right,” Lila said. She seemed to withdraw into herself after her comment, as though she wasn’t sure if she should have spoken up or not.

  “Well, what’s done is done. I guess I’m the only one who disagrees with your method, Dear.” Jasmine patted my hand. “You ask whatever you need to.”

  Florence returned with Victor in tow, and he didn’t look too comfortable when he saw us.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt your tea party,” he said apologetically. “I just wanted to check on Flo. I hadn’t seen her out in the yard this morning.”

  “Oh, she’s fine,” I said. “I met her yesterday when we drove over here and she invited me back for tea and cookies. Or tea and crumpets, as Chris
likes to say.”

  Victor looked around the room, taking in each of the ladies’ faces. “Oh. Where’s your husband?”

  I evaded the question. Victor might feel that Chris was sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong. “He ran an errand while we ladies enjoy ourselves.”

  “Ah. Well, I’d best be going then. I’ll check in with you later, Flo.”

  “I’ll see you this afternoon.” Florence waved at him as he let himself out.

  “What a nice man,” Jasmine said. “It’s wonderful that he takes the time to watch out for you.”

  “He really is like a son,” Florence replied.

  “How long has he lived by you?” I asked.

  Florence picked up her cup and took a sip. “Oh, I’d say he’s lived here for about two years now. He came over one day and offered to mow my lawn for me, and we’ve been good friends ever since.”

  “Well, I’m really happy to hear how good he’s been to you. We should all have someone who cares so much about us.” I picked up my cup and realized that I’d already finished my tea, so I reached for the platter to take another cookie. It was bare. Pulling my hand back, I picked up my napkin, folded it and placed it on the small dessert plate that Florence had placed in front of me.

  The doorbell rang again. “I’ll get that for you,” I said. “Sit and relax for a few more minutes.”

  I could hear the ladies chattering like parakeets while I walked through the house to the front door. I opened it and found Chris standing there.

  “Has it been an hour already?” I was surprised.

  “Yeah. How time flies when you’re having fun, huh? Are you about ready to go? We’ve got to pick Mikey up at school before long.”

  “Give me a couple of minutes to help Florence clear off the table and we’ll be ready. Do you want to come in?”

  Chris looked like he was in fright-or-flight mode when his eyebrows shot up and his lips tightened. “No, I think I’ll wait in the car.” It was definitely the fright mode.

  Walking back to the dining room, I couldn’t help but chuckle. My big bad Bogey Man was afraid of a group of little old ladies.

  “Well, Florence, let me help you clear off the table. My husband is back and waiting for us. We’ve got to pick our son up at school.” I glanced at my watch and saw that it was later than I’d realized.

  “Oh, please don’t bother,” Florence said. “I can do this myself. It’ll keep me busy.”

  “Are you sure?” Jasmine asked. “I don’t want to walk out on you with all these dishes on the table.”

  “I’m sure. I’m so happy that you all came to visit me today. I hope you’ll come back again. And, Pamela, feel free to bring your son along. I do love children.”

  I could see by her expression that she really meant it.

  “If we take surface streets instead of that silly freeway, we could come again,” May said. “We just can’t drive on those freeways anymore.”

  “We’ll be here whenever you want us,” Lila said.

  “Let me give you my phone number,” Jasmine added, pulling a piece of paper out of her purse.

  “And I’ll give you mine,” Florence said.

  With phone numbers exchanged, several Bless You’s said, and purses over their shoulders, the ladies followed me out of the house.

  “What a lovely lady,” Jasmine said.

  “Such a sweetheart.” May smiled at Chris as he handed her into the backseat of the car.

  “A joy to be around,” Lila said, taking Chris’s arm.

  “You’ll have to come see her again,” I said.

  “And you’ll have to come with us.” Jasmine pulled her skirt out of the way of the door before Chris closed it.

  “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. You could help keep an eye on Victor.” Chris had walked around to the front passenger side of the car and stood next to it talking to me.

  “Why would I want to keep an eye on Victor? If something happened, there’s nothing I could do.”

  “You could call the coppers. I don’t think Victor really wants to believe there’s a problem here. Besides, you’re always calm in an emergency. You’d know what to do.”

  “Okay, Bogey Man, you’ve made your point. I can watch him from Florence’s house. And just where would you be?”

  “Probably parked down the street. If I drove your Jeep, he wouldn’t recognize the car. And this way we could keep an eye out for the black truck. Thanks to Jasmine we know that at the very least it’s been cruising his house.”

  “Yes,” came a voice from the backseat. “Thanks to me.”

  I hadn’t realized that the women had opened the window and were listening to us. “We’ll come with you to see Florence, and we can keep her busy while you watch Victor.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “I’m not even sure this is really a good plan.”

  “Sure it is,” Chris said.

  “What about the restaurant? We can’t sit here all day and work the restaurant at night, too. We’d be exhausted. And what about Mikey? I can’t keep leaving him with Constance. She already takes care of him in the evening.”

  “We’ll work it out,” Chris said.

  “Sure we will,” May said.

  “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Lila added.

  “We can do this,” Jasmine said, with finality. “And, don’t forget, Florence invited your son to come visit, too.”

  Since I was standing outside of the car, I turned my head away from prying eyes and rolled my peepers.

  Chris chuckled. “You’re rolling your eyes, aren’t you?”

  I repeated my annoying habit and rolled them again, refusing to answer him.

  We headed for Mikey’s school and the ladies spoke to each other about Victor and black trucks with white campers. They weren’t listening to Chris and me, so we were able to talk about the morning.

  “What did you think of Victor?” I asked.

  “I think he’s got his noggin buried in the sand. I guess that’s a common enough reaction – denial. He doesn’t want to admit that someone might be trying to drop the final curtain on him.”

  “My take exactly,” I said. “Did you find out anything at Del’s?”

  “The bartender knows who Victor is, but he said the night bartender would know more. He suggested I come back in the evening and talk to the other guy.”

  “Are we going to a bar?” Lila asked. I had no idea that she’d been listening.

  “No!” Chris said adamantly.

  Lila turned back to her friends while we stopped for a red light.

  “Next time you say your prayers, pray for patience for me,” Chris said, quietly.

  Surprised, I turned to stare at him. He was looking in the rearview mirror at the Church Ladies.

  Someone yelled and I turned to find a teenager in the car next to us signaling for me to lower my window. I rolled it down.

  “Nice ride,” he said. “Wanna sell it?”

  “Nice ride?” Lila asked.

  “It means he likes the car,” I explained.

  “Thanks, but it’s not for sale,” Chris called back to the young man.

  “Too bad.”

  Smiling at the kid, I rolled up the window.

  We turned left and the teenager pulled into our lane and did the same. A right turn came up and Teen Boy stayed with us. We pulled into Mikey’s school. I was watching the kid and he pulled up to the curb.

  “Chris, I think that boy is tailing us. Maybe he’s going to follow us home and try to steal the car.”

  A young girl came out of the school and walked up to the teenager’s car, opened the door and climbed in. Coincidence. He’d been picking up his little sister. Apparently, he wasn’t a thief.

  I was becoming too suspicious for my own good.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Monday night Jasmine called us at home because Addie had remembered something. Jasmine put Addie on the phone.

  “When I was hiding in the camper, I d
idn’t have anything to do, and I found some mail lying in the sink. So I sorted through it. I remembered that the man with the mustache is named John. At least that was the name on the mail. I can’t recall his last name, but it was something like Jenkins or Jacobs, or maybe Jackson. All I can remember is that it began with a J. I hope this helps.”

  “It might. Let me have you talk to Chris.”

  I handed the phone to Chris, figuring he might have a few questions, and while he talked to Addie I let the dogs in the back door. They were scratching to come in and it was becoming annoying.

  “Did you happen to notice his address when you looked at all of those bills?” Chris was asking when I returned to the kitchen.

  I saw his face darken and took that as a No.

  “Uh huh,” he said. “Did you notice anything else?”

  He was quiet while he listened to the answer. Sherlock sat at his feet and watched him intently. Chris rolled his upper lip under in Bogey fashion, but I had a feeling it might be more in frustration than him moving into Bogey mode.

  “Well, Addie, I’m glad you called us, but the fact that he’s a ‘mess pot’ isn’t going to help us much. Being messy isn’t a crime. If you think of anything else, let us know.” He handed the phone back to me.

  “Thank you, Addie,” I said. “We’ll get this figured out. Are you feeling better yet?”

  “No,” she replied. “When I realized what a foolish thing I’d done, it just sapped me of all my strength. I can’t believe what a dumb thing I did. I guess it was the heat of the moment. It’s going to take some time before I start feeling like my old self again. And I’m a little afraid to go anywhere right now, just in case that man is out there. I wouldn’t want him to see me. But thank you for asking.”

  “We’ll do everything we can to get this guy off the street. You just take care of yourself and don’t worry too much. He doesn’t know where you’re staying,” I said.

  Watson licked my ankle and I pushed her away with my foot. She seemed to like the taste of the body lotion I used. After a second cursory lick and another shove from me, she ambled away and sat down by Sherlock.

  “I called Elsie to see if he’d been around, but she didn’t know. She’s glued to her television most of the time.” Addie sounded frustrated with Elsie’s TV viewing habits.